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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597077">I Think I'll Go To Boston</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithiungirl08/pseuds/UnfairestOfThemAll'>UnfairestOfThemAll (lithiungirl08)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Gen, PLATONIC MDlg, Platonic Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:16:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28597077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lithiungirl08/pseuds/UnfairestOfThemAll</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Regina sees a broken Emma and wants nothing more than to provide comfort. </p><p>Platonic MDlg.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Think I'll Go To Boston</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Most of my titles are stolen from songs. This one is by a band called Augustana</p><p>Unbeta'ed, but one is desired. </p><p>Special thanks to Viche &amp; Jazz, your tireless support means everything.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In all the years they had known one another, Regina was able to count the times Emma had sobbed in this manner. Sure the blonde had cried when Pan’s curse meant to take her and Henry away. Again, when she said goodbye to her parents. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was something deeper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saying goodbye to Sister Elizabeth was undoubtedly more challenging than any of those things. Acts that in the moment seemed to be the hardest of life’s challenges. Lovingly, Emma stroked the weathered and worn hands of Sister Elizabeth. Applying lotion to the dry appendages. “I can go now,” She softly speaks. Grey-blue eyes shining from a woman who made peace with her ever-decreasing time left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You saved my life,” Emma was not yet breaking. Not when she still had so much to thank this woman for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hope, in all of a young girl's darkest moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hope, whenever teenage her faced another rejection. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How do you possibly thank someone for their years of care as the rest of the world continued on? So in whatever small way, this gentle massage of the Nun’s hands eased her distress this was Emma’s returning favor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is not goodbye, Emma Swan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you later,” They completed together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From her corner of the room, Regina saw the light fading. Having been the sole cause of many lights to be shuttered it was easily recognized. She still had no idea how Emma found out about Sister Elizabeth’s rapidly declining health.  Nor what contacts remained of her old life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for never believing you when you said I’d be in a family of my own one day,” Blurts a glossy-eyed blonde. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now is no time for regrets, child. You are exactly where you’re meant to be. The Lord saw fit to bring us together one more time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May you know the peace you always gave to me, Sister,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bringing the hand in her grasp to trembling lips was a feat that drained Emma of energy. In what would be her final moments of Sister Elizabeth’s life, she knew peace. The hospital staff was kind enough to allow them to stay a bit longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The weather matched the somber mood of this dreary Boston afternoon. One by one, Emma Swan’s tears trekked down plump cheeks. Other than the occasional sniffle all of Boston seemed to feel the same. Rain lightly pelting at the windshield of the Mercedes. The GPS steering Regina along as the pained Savior peered out the window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C-can I hold your hand?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the first sentence Emma had needed to speak since leaving the hospital. Regina slipped the black leather glove from her right hand, extending it to find a readily available pale one poised to meet her halfway. Lightly trailing over Emma’s palm wishing her peace on this sad occasion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sister Elizabeth never hit me when I didn’t pay attention in class. She would just-” When it’s clear from a quick glance that emotion isn’t what makes Emma stop, Regina pushed for an end to that sentence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She would just- what?”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She always called me Miss Swan when I was in trouble,” The memory creeps into the blonde’s shaking shoulders, and just when Regina believed she’d need to comfort her a chuckle followed. “Disappointing her always hurt me. When I ran away from home that last time I ran away knowing that I was doing just that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your adoptive mother pushed you in front of a car to prove you had magic. I think you get a pass.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma shoots the brunette a quick smirk. “Fair enough.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did the other nuns hit you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was a bad kid.  What do you think?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regina releases her hand long enough to squeeze Emma’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you went through that,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing heavily Emma’s head turns in Regina’s direction. “Henry says you never even raised your voice at him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The turn in conversation makes her uneasy. “I’m sure I must have.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m sure you didn’t not really anyway.” With the back of her fingertips, Emma clears a bit of the blossoming fog from the passenger side window. “Besides, you just have this Mom look that says ‘Thou shalt not test me 24:7.’ You’d do anything for him and he knows it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I wonder if that’s true.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma’s head lulls her direction and a knitted eyebrow silently gives Regina a hard time. “Regina?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm?” Taking the turn into their hotel's valet parking garage and driving to level 2. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for being Henry’s Mother.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hits the brakes harder than intended and jerks them both forward. “Sorry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did I upset you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? No…” Regina is flustered. “I-I’m not sure exactly how to respond to that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Typically people respond to thank you’s with your welcome.” It’s just Emma enough that the mayor can recover. Putting the car in park and shutting it off, she smirks at the blonde. She’s not sure if Emma realizes that she’s lightly stroking the edge of Regina’s fingertips with her thumb or not. In truth, it feels comforting. “I’ll get our bags.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just go check us in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither made a move, even though thin lips turned upward slightly. “I couldn’t have done this without you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you could.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Regina.” The sassy blonde tosses her way. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're welcome,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma almost cleared the car before she realized they were still connected at the hand. Fingers interweaved. Such a simple comfort. Regina had not so much as questioned the request. They shared plenty of commonalities. One of which was always coming through for one another. She pats the hand that helped her hold it together this afternoon before relinquishing it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There had been zero hesitation when Emma asked Regina in monotone if she would accompany her to Boston.  She had been with the sheriff when the phone call came through. Maybe it had been the change in her posture or the expression on her face. How all the light that was the routine between two best friends afternoon lunch dimmed a little. Whatever it had been, Regina was relentless in her support. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even with the sudden turn of events, Emma told only Henry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sent the information to Regina for their stay. Thank you was all that came to mind but it hardly sufficed for the gravity of the situation. Grabbing the luggage from the trunk she meets the brunette at the check-in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess, they only have one bed?” Emma teases to an epic eye roll of sorts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You would like that wouldn’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regina led the way without so much as a glance over her shoulder. She knew Emma followed wherever she led. “Who is to say you wouldn’t like it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever curt reply crossed Regina’s mind she kept to herself aside from the annoying sneer to her companion.  “I enjoy having my own space to sleep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to trudge up anything negative...I’d sleep on the floor if it were…” Her last words cease as the room to their suite opens.  Cathedral ceilings, an overview of the city. Conveniently poised near the hospital and “How much was this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Affordable.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quirking a light eyebrow the Queen’s direction. “Regina,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I wanted to have our own space. To...cry, to laugh, to hear more about your memories, the life before Storybrooke. if you feel up for sharing. You don’t do any of that when you don’t feel safe.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma kicks the door shut. Their luggage followed her into the condominium until it, and she reached the brunette. “You, my best friend, never do anything half-assed, do you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Typically, no,” Regina gestures around their temporary living quarters. “Do you approve now?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crossing her arms over a puffer jacketed chest, Emma shrugs. “Can we split it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” Regina casually slides her hand around the handle of her luggage. Leaving Emma in the furnished living room pouting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From a room away, “The answer is no, Miss Swan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t dragged you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“While true, I do believe you mentioned a lovely Mexican restaurant nearby. Are you still interested in that this week?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re saying you drove four hours to have Mexican food?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying that I will not allow you to neglect yourself. Grief is a bedfellow that is never truly over.” Taking Emma’s hands within her own peering deep into luminously saddened eyes.  “I never want you to think you have to face it as you have so many things in this life, alone.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What happens next is the brunette takes Emma captive into a hug. The rare kind where she’s holding on until the return feeling begins. Sure, there have been tears. Emma held it all together and now they returned with vengeance. Regina doesn’t shush her, instead of allowing the waves to crash down all around. Keeping them upright. Providing soothing circles being rubbed over the jacket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It is a while before Emma stops but when she does the slightest hint of relief is visible. “Go put your things in your room.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes Ma’am,” She salutes. Regina rolls her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Mama’s Mi Casa….Holy Fucking shit! Emma!” Ramiro closes the gap as soon as the blonde clears the threshold behind Regina. She is lifted off her feet in an instant and the fear that puts into the brunette does not sit well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unhand her!” She says sternly, pleased to see her authoritative tenor does not go ignored. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Regina, it’s okay...we know one another,” Emma says. Ramiro is all perfect teeth, dark-skinned, and an accent that most women found pleasing. “Ramiro, this is Regina.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He politely holds out his hand. “The pleasure is mine, Regina. Is Mama gonna be happy to meet you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At this moment Emma is all blush and no bark. “We’re just amiga’s.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amiga’s, right.” He teases, flashing her a smile as they faux box in the entrance. “You’ve been missed, Swan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likewise,” Emma says as he summons them to follow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s quaint, and this is coming from the woman who runs a cursed town in Storybrooke, Maine. But the scents, oh those heavenly scented items from the kitchen are to die for. Regina breathes in, ignoring Ramiro’s curious eyes when Emma pulls out her chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He knows you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Knew,” Emma corrects. “I met them when I was working on his sister’s case.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were tracking his sister?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perusing through the beer selection Emma shakes her head. “Not exactly. Her ex-husband was a real piece of work. Every moment was a living nightmare for Elena. He put the fear of God in her,” Whatever imagery those words pull forth Emma adopts a darker of all her expressions. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you put the fear of God in him?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her usual sarcasm is missing when their eyes meet across the table for two. Before Emma can respond Ramiro returns with two women in tow. “Emmmmma!” Squeals the woman Regina placed in her early to mid-thirties. As with Ramiro, she was attractive, with a beautiful and bright smile. Straight, dark hair flowed to the middle of her back and her eyes shined at the sight of Storybrooke’s finest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their embraces are the warmest Regina has ever witnessed, save for Henry and Emma. Last but not least is that of whom she can assume is Mama and Emma. The blonde whispers something in Spanish and sends her Queen on another mind wracking train of thought. This did not at all fit the woman she believed Emma Swan to be. So she did as she must, observing carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Mama, Elena, this is Regina,” Ramiro steals the words from Emma’s mouth but the blonde only smiles as each takes their turn fawning over the brunette. The last time people behaved this way Regina was a Princess. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The pleasure is ours. Any ‘amiga’ of Emma’s is ours as well. You did well,” Elena directs Emma with a wink. “Always trying to deny you enjoy a strong Latina stock.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any chance you feel a bit murderous today?” Emma’s blushing clears her neck. “I’ll stand still if you make it quick,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She does look rather fierce.” This woman is flirting with both of them. Not that it matters but her boldness is flattering and impressive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Miss Elena.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dark lashes bat her direction. “Emma always does love a good challenge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mama on the other hand whispers something sweet to Emma that has them both glancing at Regina. “Gracias, Mama,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the two of them, a feast is prepared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well go on,” Elena says when Emma pauses at the food's arrival. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-” Emma steals a glance across the table to her companion. What Regina sees leaves her somber but also gives her an idea. She extends her arm so they may link hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if it was second-nature she does the same for Elena. “Would you join us in the blessing of the food?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ay Dios Mio, Regina. How you have changed our Emma.” But the thousand-watt smile tells the story. “Mama, Ramiro…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The table of two swells to five. When they have all linked hands, Regina seeks either permission to continue or for Emma to take the reigns. “Lord, today you called a very special woman home. This one is for Sister Elizabeth. Bless the food before us. The family and friends beside us. And the love between us. Amen.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Amen,” Emma holds onto Regina’s hand until the last possible second. Releasing it slowly, with her fingertips trailing out of the opening palm.”Okay, let’s eat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma spends most of the time moaning in appreciation. An act Regina receives anytime she cooks for the blonde. Despite the calling behind their trip, this is the most relaxed she’s seen her. She cannot help but imagine this is a glimmer of who existed before. Then Emma is sending and receiving air kisses from Elena who rarely leaves their side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t fit anything else,”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One more thing,” Elena teases, removing her black apron to reveal a growing bump. Just as the blonde’s eyes fall to it, a smile threatens to take over both of their faces. “ Meet Agata Emma Alocoer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Agata, meaning?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good-hearted, and kind. Emma means whole. With her, our family will be.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To do that, yes, yes, I know. We want to.” Elena tenderly trails her fingertips across Emma’s forearm. Easing a bit of the growing flush on the blonde’s face. She is gentle and kind in her attention. “Rogelio and I, owe everything to you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You owe me nothing,” It is so completely Emma to downplay her role. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everything,” Elena repeats, bypassing air kisses to place one against the sheriff's cheek. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Congratulations,” Regina says politely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gracias. You take care of my Emma okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A fight nearly breaks out when the bill never shows with Elena shrugging off Emma’s pleas to pay. The only thing stopping the sheriff was having Regina pull her out of the door after long hugs and exchanging of current phone numbers. They get a few paces before the brunette whispers. “I took care of it,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I snuck $100 into her apron while you were both distracted.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the neon lights of Mama’s, there was no doubt in Emma Swan's mind that she was among royalty. “I’ve never had the courage to tell you but now is as good a time as any. I love you, Regina.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still fiddling with the umbrella, it pops open at those three words. Regina extends her arm and waits for Emma to join her under the umbrella. Pulling her deliberately closer than necessary under its large circumference of protection.  The confession is news to her.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Never had the courage to tell you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I love you too,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Emma has the stupidest smile Regina’s ever seen but it makes her warm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for coming with me,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve said that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their rented condominium draws nearer. Rain falls all around them and yet, Emma cannot seem to move on from this topic. “If you ever need anything…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be my hero?” Regina batts her long eyelashes but her expression is soft. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will be whatever you need,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t dawn on the brunette until Emma is opening the door for her that some of this land's silly rules are real. Emma never allows her to walk closest to the road, nor pull out a chair. Once at Granny’s she had even jumped the white picket fence to make it to the door first. It scared the hell out of Regina but all it earned her was a crooked smile. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A furrowed brow greets her question first. “You deserve happiness.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have Henry.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s great, it is...but Henry is getting ready to do his own thing. Really discover who he is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know who I am.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Was there ever any doubt?” Emma shrugs. “I just want to know that your needs are being met. In whatever small ways I can.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll still have you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crooked grin is back. “Some of us age,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Emma steps forward to press the elevator button, Regina hits the stop after the doors have closed. “You are not allowed to die, Miss Swan.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You probably have another forty years of this, Miss Mills.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t sass me when I’m sassing you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just the fiery missive Emma wanted when she started picking a sore spot. Her laughter fills the elevator. “Yes, Ma’am.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather be Regina.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rocking back on her heels the elevator renews its journey to the third floor. “As scary as your mother was, her name choice is questionable. Your name with the title is literally Queen Queen.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you really want to discuss the decisions of our parents?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No Ma’am.” Exiting onto their floor Emma takes longer strides to beat her to the door. Opening to a beautiful sunset taking place. She takes Regina’s dress coat, hanging it on the hook. “Is there anything I can get you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. Thank you,” Regina settles on the love seat to watch it take place. Before long Emma joined her, a glass of apple cider at the ready. She turns to see if Emma is okay as she’s been quiet for a bit only to find green eyes watching her. “Are you…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t ask me if I’m okay. I appreciate the reason, but I just want to sit here and enjoy something beautiful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here because I want to be here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dying light of the day begins to sink below the horizon. “Emma?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you need to hold my hand again, you may.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a wordless response that is precisely what happens. There they are. Four hours from home holding hands in a city that will always feel a bit strange to Regina. A land where she can become as lost as she ever dreamed. To the citizens of Boston, she had no past that they knew. She could weave any tale that came to mind and they would be none the wiser. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet at this moment all she wants is to be the one holding Emma Swan’s hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sleep took Emma a short while later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Knowing it was a mix of cider and sheer exhaustion Regina found a lack of desire to remove herself. Too few in which the Savior appeared a mere mortal. Sister Elizabeth must have known how special a child she was. Or perhaps she believed herself to be doing God’s bidding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing more, nothing less. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t make for the type of story Emma should be a part of. She was too rare a woman. With too many invisible scars. One of the minds that interrupts a peaceful night's sleep and turns it into a personal hell. That sees the worst of you unleashed on those who don’t deserve it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regina touches her light as a feather. Caressing golden locks that are as soft as they appear. Down the jaw that had so often clenched itself to avoid setting off the hair-pin triggered brunette. It’s relaxing. A sigh escapes and she feels Emma beginning to wake. Ceasing her caressing as she comes too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m awake,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It garners Emma a chuckle. “Yes, I can tell.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma takes one look at their linked hands, saying nothing. “We should go to bed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were four hours from Henry,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Yes…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you know that at the time?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. The records were sealed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regarding her carefully Regina arches a brow. “You tried to find him?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you have a bad…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Regina. I just wanted to make sure that he was okay. I never planned to meet him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She is smirking in the moonlight. “Ruining plans are in the Charming DNA.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d relive my shitty past all over again to get to this.” There is a tighter squeeze from Regina to Emma’s hand. “You were everything I prayed for. I’m not talking in prison, I’m talking about the three-year-old returned because her parents had their own biological child. I’m talking about every version of myself that needed a mother. What you gave to Henry I can never repay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regina isn’t crying exactly but the light gloss on her eyes as she stares out over the city doesn’t hide it. “You were supposed to bring back the Happy Endings.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still haven’t…” her elegant tears begin to take silent plunges over too heavy eyelids. “Hey, I’m not going to give up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I cannot erase the guilt you feel forgiving Henry up for adoption. Do not dare to say that you discarded him. Do not dare to say that you are like your mother because you are not. Far too often you are selfless. You put the town, your parents, and everyone around you on pedestals with no regard for your own wants and needs. You gave me something which I can never repay, my Truest Love. Henry is everything I have always wanted. You gave that to me. You gave me something better than just love, Emma. You gave me hope.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Drawing herself onto her knees to pull Regina into her. They never touch this way and Emma has to admit. It feels nice. The safety she’s learning to find in vulnerability still makes it a bit nerve-wracking. But she would not trade it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to get used to the hope thing. I’m pretty shit at the speeches but I can give it a go.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t,” Regina finds herself saying. She’s had enough of her wonky emotions this day but holding Emma doesn’t feel like that at all. It’s a solid reminder that they are here for a reason. Fate, or destiny, whatever you want to call it brought these two together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A long time ago she thought it was to undo all that she had done. Now, she was beginning to realize it was to become all that she could. Better and stronger. Being so close and missing the hum of their combined magic. They were not touchy-feely, to begin with, but she still expected to feel something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even in the land without magic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ready for bed?” Emma asks, catching herself playing in the ends of growing dark locks. She doesn’t want to let go. Not this moment. Not this woman. Not this time. Regina doesn’t move immediately. Taking her time unraveling knowing it means they will part.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose we should.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing a glass of water before bed, Emma watches Regina straighten the blanket that rested on the back of the love seat. Smoothing it just as she was at home in Storybrooke. It was that attention to detail, the way she never let anything be hidden that made the blonde grow weak. Even when she wanted to hide she couldn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep my door open,” Regina says, passing by the kitchen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mine too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tilt of Regina’s head adds a glimmer of curiosity to her expression. “Good night, Emma.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweet dreams, Regina.” She whispers to the woman’s back. Man, Henry would have killed her if she had mentioned that the woman had nightmares. Absolutely, irrevocably ended her. With Regina’s help, no doubt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Settling into her own bed across the hallway the weight of the day hits the Savior square in the chest. Her heart aching at the loss of a woman who selflessly dedicated her life to serving others. Emma had never really shared in being pious. After being discarded so carelessly she simply stopped believing there was a purpose to her being here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once she found Storybrooke, a purpose was thrust upon her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One she had not fulfilled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glancing through the hallway she could make out Regina’s shadow in the bed. Smiling in the dark. So near, so far. Eternally grateful she did not have to face this alone. The monster that was time and it devoured them all in the end. For now, she had these moments in a city far away. Henry had been so happy in New York. Able to leave everything behind. The only thing missing was something neither of them could name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Staring through the doorway she knew that something was someone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That, someone, was Regina.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The alarm going off was torture. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As of late being, the sheriff meant covering even later nights. The Lost Boys were bound and determined to keep her young. Their trouble-making was a petty crime at it’s finest. What struck Emma most was Regina’s interactions where they were concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finding a balance between strict and compassionate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flipping to being dayside was a wake-up call. Sunlight illuminates the room across the hall where being the Mayor has its perks. One of which meant Regina was already awake and preparing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sounds from Emma’s room are minimal, barely enough to tell that she was awake. A glance between the open doors of their room reveals the blonde to be missing from the bed. Regina finishes dressing in her mourning attire. Stealing a look at a woman who has silently had to mourn multiple losses on her squared shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Crossing the hallway it’s the sight of Emma sitting numbly at the vanity, still dressed in her pajamas that prompts Regina into action. Sectioning her hair to perform a braid to create a golden crown against Emma’s head. Working in relative silence with only Emma’s eyes watching in fascination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Resting atop the unmade bed is a sensible black dress, fleece leggings. Beside them, a black knee-length peacoat to complete the ensemble. Regina recognizes the coat as last winter's Christmas gift. A small token between herself and the Sheriff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Returning, Regina tilts Emma’s chin up, forcing her shoulders back. “Let’s get dressed, shall we?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma seems smaller like this somehow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How special it felt to be someone that could sit with her at this moment. To see this not in weakness but in the crippling calmness that borders the edge of catatonia. Emma allows her to go through the motions of preparation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nary a word is exchanged as Regina assists Emma. Pulling the oversized tee-shirt over her head. The blonde assists by stepping out of her pajama bottoms. Steadying herself with by the hand Regina’s shoulder. How calm and natural this all felt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dress falls over her fighting the morning’s chill. Its belt tightened around her thin waist, grounding her.  Forcing Emma to be in her body. Fleece leggings gave another comfort. Soft, and warm against her pale skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There,” Regina says with finality, buttoning-up the peacoat. “Sister Elizabeth approved. All the way to the top button.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This draws Emma from her silence to a weakened smile. “Something tells me she’d never have believed it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a good girl, Emma.” Regina’s touch is kind, warm, and safe resting atop a shoulder. A place of peace in the middle of Hell. A flicker of a smile is directed the brunette’s way, along with Emma turning to embrace her fully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wishing so badly to fall into a safe place inside of Regina. Where no monsters nor memories could find her. Should they take away, the power of Regina’s friendship would flatten them into dust. When tears came to claim their victory, it was the gentle stroking of lithe fingers through blonde tresses that kept Emma from a full-on meltdown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have you now.” </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <b>Funeral</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As stoic as Emma could be it was clear that today would not be such a day. The service is a simple no-frills affair. Those humans gathering around the edges are as varied a crowd as it can get. “Do you recognize anyone?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without so much as a glance around blonde hair sways to and fro. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you need to…” Wordlessly, her hand is taken. “I have you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tearfully, regarding the brunette, the smallest flicker of something other than sadness appears. Her body subconsciously shifts closer. As rigid as Emma’s back was, her shoulders were slumped. Dabbing at her eyes. Wiping her slightly runny nose on her black turtleneck sweater.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, are you Emma Swan?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry...what are you doing here? You’re…” Heading her and Regina’s directions are Snow White, David, and Neal on his shoulders. His dirty blonde boyish hair being pushed back by the light breeze of this beautifully painful afternoon. “All here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t what we agreed upon,” Regina says sternly to her son. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They followed me. What would you have me do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Emma’s recovered a bit and back at wiping her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sweetie, I knew you were hurting. If you need someone to feel angry with it should be me.” As much as Emma wants to be upset, she already is in another capacity that she cannot simply switch gears to get out of. “We wanted to be here for you,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The flowers in Snow’s arms were beautiful. Emma believes she recognizes them from the last funeral they attended. Plants didn’t look all that different between realms, but even she can see that her Mother had brought royal burial flowers. Not even knowing who Sister Elizabeth as she had brought the best. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Emma follows, accepting her parent's embrace and allowing Regina’s hand to slip out of hers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neal leans down from their father’s shoulder to kiss his sister’s cheek. “Emma, have you ever had Cinnabon?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gives a watery laugh, shooting him a smile. “Yes. Do you like it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The enthusiastic nod in response almost sees Neal topple from David’s shoulders. He takes aim at Regina with his puppy dog eyes and bats the long, dark eyelashes he was blessed with. “Do you like Cinnabon?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pursing her lips, prepared by the years of Henry and Emma to play hard to get with the request about to come her way. “I enjoy it with your nephew on occasion.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, how would you like to enjoy it ANYtime?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would be nice. There is just one problem with that…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head tilted, not unlike a young pup. “What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mine is better,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?! Can you make them and bring them to my school sometime?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would be my pleasure.”  Though addressing Neal it is not lost on Regina that Emma has stepped toward Sister Elizabeth’s final resting place. Silently moving away from their small group to place the flowers nearby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Noting that it doesn't happen immediately but as she straightens, her posture does as well. The weight that crushed her seemingly displaced for the moment in the company of family. Or, as Regina notes, Emma does not wish for weak appearances. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ever the Savior. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snow White has not ceased speaking since entering the condominium. From the smirk adorning Emma’s lips, Regina notes that the blonde finds it amusing to a great degree. Her mother flitted from one area to the next. Coming to rest near the window overlooking the city. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Neal, David, come look at this…” They join her at the window. “You don’t get this in Storybrooke.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I bet Spiderman loves it here,” Neal whispers a bit in awe but also completely reminding them that he is four years old now. Expectantly looking up at his mother. “Do Henry and I get to share a room?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re not going to stay, sweetie. We’ve got a long trip back home.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense.” It’s Emma speaking. “It’s almost dinnertime. You guys need to stay the night at the very least.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We don’t want to impose…” Regina casually sips on the cider in her glass. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You aren’t. I just don’t want to put the boys at risk. That’s all.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Only for tonight. It’ll be like an early Storybrooke.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be sneaking around with David?” Emma does not miss a beat and the cider in Regina’s mouth immediately goes down the wrong pipe. The coughing fit does her no favors but the pure look of horror on Snow White’s face is enough to make her forgive the blonde. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, the boys end up sleeping in full view of the city. David and Snow White are in the room Regina occupied the night before and she now shares the room with Emma. The soft sounds of Neal and Henry’s voices float in their direction. Neal’s laughter sometimes comes back as his nephew makes a silly voice for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the opposite edge of the bed, Emma hears the soft amusement and smirk of her companion. “What is it?” she asks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When Henry couldn’t sleep he’d knock on my door and climb into bed with me. Most nights the best way to get him back to sleep was to let him talk himself out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolls to face Regina even though the room is dark. “Yeah? Do you remember anything he talked about?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When he was about the age Neal is now we would talk about our day at the office.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Emma’s chuckle makes Regina smile. “Day at the office, huh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes. Henry was my right-hand man for every bit of four years. I commissioned a desk for him. He had his own briefcase and little casual dress outfits.” Regina sighs dreamily. “He was so handsome.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silence ticks on for a few beats. “Cutest little co-mayor Storybrooke ever had. I wish I could have seen it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys' laughter peaks again. Whatever it was the adults couldn’t make out what it was exactly but Emma knew enough to know they were both smiling too. “When we return to Storybrooke I can play some home videos for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the blink of an eye, Regina has come closer to share something the others won’t be able to hear. “I know you wanted to deal with this on your own but you don’t have to. We’re together. If you need to hold my hand doesn’t let any of them out there stop you. Do you understand?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-” Emma doesn’t reach for her hand. Not immediately, Regina finds the blonde scooting into her embrace. Tucking her body firmly into the brunette’s and becoming small as she could. “Okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tries her nails down the back of Emma’s forearm. Keeping her touch light and grounding. Blonde locks were stroked by her free hand. Wanting to keep the woman in a state of semi-conscious bliss. “It’s okay, Emma.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is what it’s like isn’t it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This isn’t the strong voice of days gone by this is brokenness as a child might sound after a nightmare. So small. Searching for a place to regain safety, be protected come whatever may.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, what is like?” Emma’s body is shivering but she manages to give a shake of her head. “If I’m going to help I need to know.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One of her pale hand's fists at the bottom of Regina’s silk sleeping top. Battling the alarms screaming in the depths of her mind. Words uttered on the backs of a broken sob, “Having a Mommy?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Regina answers softly. “Emma…”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Emma tries pulling away but finds the brunette’s hold steadfast. Stroking away decades of ingrained fear with every stroke of fingers through flowing blonde locks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If only it were that easy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not quite sure. My Mother never particularly offered warmth or safety when I was growing up.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Henry says sometimes you made him stay in his own room when he was scared. But you sat with him across the room until he fell asleep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sleep was chipping away at the last vestiges of Emma’s consciousness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Splashes of Cora &amp; The Evil Queen. What I wouldn’t give to go back to those moments and do it all differently.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nestling into her bedmate the blonde shakes her head once more. “You NEVER abandoned him...” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were a formidable Princess Charming.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s...too...bad.” Soft snores began as speech faded. </span>
</p>
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